WolfeLord by Kathryn Le Veque

PROLOGUE

MY MOON AND STARS

Castle Questing

1255 A.D.

“Does it fit?”

She twirled the ring around her finger, a golden band with an unusual setting. It was set with a moonstone, reputedly from ancient Rome, in a star-shaped mount. Both the moonstone and the star-shaped mount had meaning to them.

“It does. It’s so beautiful, but you know I cannot wear it until you speak with my father.”

The softly voiced statement came from an elegant woman with hair the color of starlight. At least, that’s what her lover had always said – hair that glittered like the brightest star, a brilliant blend of red and gold. That’s why he’d given her the moonstone set in the star mount. You are my moon and stars, he told her. In fact, that’s what he’d had inscribed on the inside of the band – my moon and stars.

It was a ring as magnificent as its owner.

That’s what Scott de Wolfe thought, anyway.

He’d thought that way since the day he realized Athena de Norville was something special.

He wasn’t exactly sure when that was. A couple of years ago, at least. It was true that he was a few years older than she was, but not too many in the grand scheme of things. They were both adults. They knew their mind and their hearts. But now, they were facing a very real adult problem.

Scott pointed to the great hall, across the bailey from the stables they were sitting in.

“My brother just had to marry your sister for the exact same reason,” he hissed. “Your father, my father, Uncle Kieran… they did unspeakable things to him. God only knows what they are going to do to me.”

Athena smiled faintly, looking at her big, strong, handsome lover. He was a de Wolfe, from one of the finest families in the north. More than that, he was his father’s heir, which meant he’d inherit the great de Wolfe empire. She put a hand on her belly. So would the child she carried.

She was positive it was male.

“I do not know how much longer I can hide my condition,” she said, standing up and rubbing her belly. “Helene is smaller than I am, so hers was quickly apparent, but me… I’ve got the legs of a deer and a long body, so I can hide it better, but not for much longer. Sooner or later, my mother is going to know and when she does, she will tell my father.”

Scott grunted, wiping a hand over his face. In the distance, they could hear music and laughter from the wedding feast that was going on this night. A cold, clear night with a million stars in the sky presiding over the very happy union of two great families.

“Come here, Tee,” he said softly.

“Tee” was her nickname, spoken softly and gently. Athena moved in his direction, taking his outstretched hand. He pulled her against him, his face level with her belly. She was wearing a garment that was nipped under the breasts so the fabric draped over her torso. Nothing to bind. He put a hand on her belly, feeling the firm roundness beneath. He wrapped his arms around her, planting his face in her stomach and kissing it sweetly.

“I know I should have told your father sooner,” he whispered. “I should have told him as soon as you told me, but then I was sent off to London and I spent longer than I had anticipated there. I had hoped to tell him before the babe was still visible, but five months in London prevented that.”

Athena ran her hands through his dark blond hair. “Then you must do it now,” she said. “I know we have both been waiting for the right time and that time is now, now while he’s still drunk with happiness over Helene and Troy’s marriage. Mayhap he will not react so poorly. Besides, I want to wear my ring tonight.”

Scott sighed heavily. “We shall see,” he said. “He showed up this morning and wanted to kill Troy, you know.”

“I know.”

“He is going to want to kill me, too.”

Athena was trying not to grin. “You will not know until you tell him,” she said. “Truly, Scott, if you do not, I must. It would be better coming from you.”

He knew that. Wearily, he stood up, towering over a woman who was already quite tall. “Shall we do it together?”

Athena nodded. “I think we’d better,” she said. “At least I can stop him from trying to kill you. He wouldn’t dare do such a thing in my presence.”

Scott cocked a dubious eyebrow at her. “You think so, do you?”

She couldn’t help but smile now and he broke down, snorting, mostly because it was a ridiculous situation they’d gotten themselves into. While their fathers were focused on the other pair – Scott’s twin brother, Troy, and Athena’s older sister, Helene, who found themselves in the exact same situation with an unplanned pregnancy, what they didn’t realize was that Scott and Athena were in that identical situation themselves, only they’d been better at concealing it.

Still, Scott was nervous. He drew in several long breaths – in and out, in and out – before turning towards the stable entry. Beyond was the yard and beyond that, the bailey and the massive keep of Castle Questing. As he gazed out at the activity, he caught sight of his Aunt Jemma heading in his direction.

The little Scotswoman was his mother’s cousin, married to his father’s second in command, Kieran Hage. The woman had a heart of gold but the temper of a banshee, as she was affectionately called. Kieran was an enormous man, the strongest man on the border as William de Wolfe called him, and along with that strength came a calm, calculating personality. Matched with Jemma’s fire, they were quite literally fire and ice.

Seeing Jemma gave Scott an idea.

“Aunt Jemma!” he called to her, waving her over.

Jemma had a bucket in her hand, eyeing Scott with mild surprise as she headed in his direction. “What are ye doing out here?” she asked. “Yer brother’s wedding feast is that way.”

She was pointing to the keep. Scott ignored the question, pointing to the bucket. “What are you doing with that?”

Jemma was distracted as she lifted the bucket. “There’s no milk,” she said. “All of the kitchen servants are busy with the wedding feast, so I’ve come tae collect some milk for the bairns. They want warm milk with cinnamon before they’ll agree tae go tae bed.”

Scott fought off a grin. “Since when do you give in to the demands of children?”

Jemma scowled. “Yer own baby brother, Eddie, is leading the charge,” she said. “Ye know yer da thinks the sun rises and sets on his sons, so the other children are smart now. They let Eddie make the demands and we must all go along or there’ll be hell tae pay with yer da.”

Scott chuckled, thinking of his baby brother, Edward, born a scant year before. But he was smart, verbal, and already walking, and their father put a good deal of stock in bright, loud Edward de Wolfe. But thinking about his littlest brother brought about the very reason why he was in the stable, so he took the bucket from his aunt and took her by the hand, leading her into the stable.

“I must speak with you before you fetch your milk,” he said. “I need your counsel.”

Jemma let the big, blond knight lead her into the confines of the stable. “Me?” she said. “What could I possibly help ye with?”

As they entered the stable, Jemma immediately saw Athena sitting on a stool near a table that held all manner of combs and brushes for the horses.

“I must swear you to secrecy, Aunt Jemma,” he said. “You are the only one not affected by the situation, so I must have your oath.”

Jemma looked at him curiously. “Ye have it,” she said. “But what situation do ye mean?”

Scott came to a pause in front of Athena, turning to look at Jemma. The woman was pregnant with her fifth child and due to give birth in a month, so Scott was hoping she would understand their predicament and advise them. When she wasn’t being angry or volatile, Jemma could be wise and patient. But only if the mood struck her.

Scott could only hope this was one of those times.

He took a deep breath.

“You know the situation my brother and Helene are in?” he said.

Jemma lifted her eyebrows. “Their marriage?”

Scott shook his head. “The reason they were prompted into the marriage so… quickly.”

Jemma understood immediately. “Ah,” she said. “Aye, that. And yer brother paid the price for it when he earned himself the Helm of Shame.”

And so came forth that terrible, awful name.

Helm of Shame.

It was something greatly feared by all of the sons and soldiers of William de Wolfe, Paris de Norville, and Kieran Hage. They were the greatest knights of their generation, men who had been born and bred for battle, men who had raised their children in the same honorable fashion.

The Helm of Shame was used as punishment for those who behaved ignobly.

It was one of those brilliant, nasty tricks used for punishment on naughty lads or lazy knights. It had all started many years ago at a battle near Whiteadder Water when someone cut the garter off the mail of Kieran’s left leg during the heat of battle. The mail slid down and took his breeches with it, and suddenly, Kieran was fighting with his bare arse exposed.

Once the fighting stopped, Kieran was so angry at the rebelling Scots that he refused to pull up his breeches. He left his backside hanging out and made it all the way back to the encampment that way. But it didn’t end there. He went to the Scots prisoners and made them all look at his bare buttocks to punish them for their insurrection.

And so, came the Helm of Shame.

As Kieran was walking around, holding up his breeches in the front so his manhood was covered, he came across a knight from Northwood Castle. The young knight was named Corin de Fortlage and he had pulled out of the battle early, pleading exhaustion. Kieran was so angry at Corin that he pushed the man to the ground and sat on his head with his bare buttocks. He called it the Helm of Shame and told Corin if he ever left the field of battle early again, he would punish him again with the Helm of Shame. It had been particularly ghastly for Corin because of the way he’d fallen on the ground – when Kieran squatted on him, from the angle of his head, the man’s testicles were right by Corin’s nose.

Corin was always the last man to leave the field of battle after that.

The Helm of Shame was legendary amongst the de Wolfe armies and it was something that Kieran had done more than once. If a young knight displeased him, they were threatened with the Helm of Shame. No one else could do it better than Kieran and the older knights began using it as a threat to the younger knights or misbehaving squires. William, Paris, and Kieran had even used it on their own sons to keep them from being naughty.

Unfortunately, it had been used on Troy when Helene’s pregnancy had been discovered and, even now, Troy was in the great hall with his head shaved because part of the Helm of Shame had been to shave his head in an odd manner, leaving just a patch of hair at the top of his skull so he looked like a complete fool. Scott’s mother, Jordan, had taken pity on her son and shaved off that weird patch so at least his head was uniform now, even if he was bald.

Scott didn’t want that to happen to him.

“There is no delicate way to put this, so I will come out with it,” he finally said. “Tee and I are in the same predicament, only our fathers do not know yet. I am not sure how to tell Uncle Paris. I need your counsel, Aunt Jemma. Please.”

Jemma didn’t react to the shocking news. Scott and Athena kept waiting for her to shriek with surprise, even outrage, but she didn’t. She simply looked between the pair of them, digesting what she’d been told. After a moment, she sighed faintly and rubbed her own blossoming belly.

“Well,” she said thoughtfully. “If we’re being perfectly honest, yer Uncle Kieran and I were in the same situation before we were married and, if I recall, so were yer own mother and father. ’Tis nothing new with the hot-blooded men of de Wolfe and Hage. Even de Norville. That pompous peacock likes tae think he’s perfect.”

Scott fought off a grin. The animosity between Jemma and Paris was legendary. “You mean Uncle Paris?”

Jemma snorted and turned up her nose, which was usual when discussing Paris. Scott watched her closely, waiting for some measure of wisdom to come forth, but nothing was forthcoming.

“Well?” he said hopefully. “How should I tell Uncle Paris?”

Jemma held up a hand for patience before extending the bucket to him. “Put some milk in it for the bairns,” she said. “I’ll return.”

Leaving Scott holding the bucket, she headed out of the stable. When she was gone, Scott turned to Athena.

“Where did she go?” he wondered, baffled. “Do you think she’s gone to tell him herself?”

Athena’s eyes were wide. “I do not know,” she said. “He’ll not take the news well coming from her. Mayhap you should go after her.”

Scott wasn’t sure about that. Part of him wanted to hide behind his pregnant aunt, but most of him wanted to stop her if, indeed, she had gone in to tell him herself. He wasn’t quite sure what to do, so he stood there nervously as Athena took the bucket from him and went to the rear of the stable where the dairy cows where corralled along with several goats and their kids. Scott could hear her milking the cow, the rhythmic sounds of milk streams hitting the side of the bucket. It seemed like an eternity, listening to the sounds of the distant party and the swish, swish of the milk, until he could suddenly hear people approaching the stable.

The sound of footsteps did nothing to help his anxiety. He stood his ground as he saw figures coming at him from the darkness.

Jemma was followed by two very large men.

William de Wolfe’s features came into view, followed shortly by Kieran Hage. Men he loved and trusted dearly, but men who, only several hours earlier, had done unspeakable things to his brother in punishment for the exact same predicament. He heard Athena gasp as she came back in from the corral, but Scott couldn’t take his eyes from his father.

Jemma came to a halt in front of him.

“I told them that ye needed tae tell them something,” she said quietly. “If ye want advice, they’re the men tae ask, lad. Ye’d better do it.”

Scott looked at her, knowing why she’d done it. He’d tried to put the burden of a terrible situation on her shoulders and she’d shirked that duty, quite reasonably so, in favor of the men who could genuinely be of some help.

“What is it?” William asked, half-drunk from hours of drinking to Troy’s marriage. “Why are you out here? What is so important?”

Scott sighed sharply. There was no use in delaying the inevitable.

“Because I must ask your advice,” he said. “I want to marry Athena, Papa.”

A smile spread across William’s lips as he looked at Athena, who was handing the half-filled pail of milk over to Jemma.

“I know,” he said. “I have known for years. But I am not the one to ask, lad. Paris is in a good mood – go inside the hall and ask him now.”

“I want to marry her because she is carrying my child.”

William’s smile vanished. Years ago, he’d lost his left eye to an archer in battle, but his right eye was still sharp, still keen, now wide in shock.

“She’s pregnant?” he gasped.

“Aye.”

“But Helene is pregnant!”

“Aye, Papa. Both of them are.”

William just stood there, absorbing what he’d been told. But given that he was tipsy, he was in less control of his emotions than he usually was. Scott’s muscular body was tense as he prepared for his father’s inevitable onslaught. When his father didn’t reply right away, Scott hastened to make his case clear.

“Athena is further along than Helene, only she has managed to hide her condition better,” he said, looking between his father and Kieran, who didn’t seem particularly surprised. “I meant to ask for her hand when we found out, but you sent me to London on business and by the time I returned, several months had passed. I would have been able to lie about it had we married when we first discovered it. But now, I cannot lie about it. She is going to have a child and I must tell Uncle Paris. I want to ask your advice on how to do it.”

William’s jaw dropped. He looked at his son for a moment before rolling his eye and slouching back against the wall of the stable.

“Oh… God,” he muttered. “Another one.”

Scott still wasn’t sure where this was going so he remained on his guard, prepared to defend himself. “Aye,” he said steadily. “Another one. I am sorry for disappointing you, Papa, but I am not sorry for loving Athena. She carries the heir to the House of de Wolfe and I must marry her. I want to.”

That was true. Scott was a twin, but he was the firstborn twin, the first son of William de Wolfe and his wife, Jordan. That meant the child Athena carried was indeed the heir if it was a male child. William found himself looking at Athena.

Tall and elegant, with golden-red hair, she was a woman of grace and beauty, even at her young age. Scott had been sweet on her for some time, but he’d spent so much time pretending to ignore her, and she him, that he was genuinely surprised that they’d managed to connect. Not only connect, but conceive a child. Both Scott and his brother, Troy, had bedded women and gotten them pregnant. But not just any women – Paris’ daughters.

William couldn’t help it; he started to laugh. A dry, humorless laugh.

“God’s Bones, what animals I have raised,” he muttered. “After what happened with your brother today, Paris will be even angrier with you. He’s going to be bloody well furious and you know he wanted to fight your brother today. You saw it, Scott. He came armed for battle and Kieran had to talk him out of it.”

Scott knew that, for he’d been armed for battle, too, prepared to defend his brother against a very angry father of a pregnant daughter. He looked to Kieran to see the man’s reaction. Wise, gentle, and enormously powerful, Kieran was the most levelheaded person that Scott knew. He was hoping the man had something encouraging to say, but Kieran was gazing at him as if completely exasperated by the situation.

“I know,” Scott said. “I was hoping Uncle Kieran might have some words of advice. Or… or mayhap help me face him.”

Kieran shook his head. “I do not think Paris can take another dose of news such as this, not today,” he said. “But there is little choice. Mayhap it is best you do it now, while he is celebrating Helene’s marriage and possibly too drunk to do much damage.”

Scott nodded, but it was with great reluctance. “Mayhap,” he said. “I’m sorry to ask for your assistance, for I know I should face this alone, but the longer we waited, the more difficult it has become.”

“Paris is going to want his pound of flesh,” William said. “I will not stop him, Scott. You soiled the man’s daughter.”

“He did not soil me,” Athena said, finding her voice. When Scott tried to stop her, she ignored him. “Do you hear me, Uncle William? He did not soil me. If you must know the truth, I seduced him. Does that shock you?”

William looked at Athena. She was a smart lass, deeply compassionate and caring, but she was also bold and arrogant, like her father. She took after him in almost every aspect. She had an unruly tongue when the mood struck her and Paris had difficulty with her at times because of it. She was unafraid to speak her mind, unafraid to do what she wanted to do. But she was also wildly emotional and her mood swings could be tremendous – happy one moment, weeping the next.

That could be a problem.

Paris told William that Athena had threatened to kill herself once when Scott had seemingly rejected her. That was in days long past, of course, but William wondered if Scott even knew that, and if he did, if he was with the woman because of it. No one wanted to test Athena in that regard because being as fearless as she was, she might very well do such a thing simply to prove a point. It was something Paris really didn’t speak of, and hadn’t except for that one time, but looking at the young woman, William wondered if she’d grown out of those impulses.

He wondered what would happen should Paris become truly irate at Scott.

“You are young and you are in love,” William said after a moment. “You and Scott have demonstrated that love. I do not find it shocking, but your father will have something different to say about it. He was irate about Helene and I can only imagine that he will be irate about you. Now… will you go inside with your Aunt Jemma? I wish to speak to Scott alone, please.”

Athena geared up for a retort but the expression on Scott’s face forced her to rethink it. After a moment, she reluctantly obeyed. It wasn’t her instinct to obey, but she forced herself to. She felt Jemma grasp her hand, pulling her from the stable.

With great misgivings, she followed.

The night outside was cold and crisp, a thousand stars overhead. Inside the great hall of Castle Questing, music and light and warmth filtered through the enormous lancet windows, giving off energy into the night. But Athena wasn’t thinking about her sister’s wedding feast – she was thinking about the man she’d left behind in the stable.

“What do you think Uncle William is saying to him?” she asked Jemma. “Do you think he’s truly angry?”

Jemma was focused on the keep. “I think that he is giving Scott advice on how tae inform yer father without causing the man tae blow the top of his head off in rage.”

Athena was still uncertain. “I know that I must let Scott speak with him, but what I said in there was true. I did seduce him.”

Jemma didn’t have any discernable reaction to that declaration. “Ye’re a bold woman, Tee,” she said. “But ye’ve always known yer own mind. I know Scott isna a whim.”

“Never,” she insisted. “I love him and he loves me, and our son will be the greatest knight England has yet seen.”

They had come close to the keep now, with its music and light and wafts of food on the night air. Jemma didn’t comment any further on the situation between Scott and Athena because, frankly, it was none of her business and out of her hands.

“Come inside, lass,” she said. “Yer father has spent a good deal of money for this affair, so ye may as well enjoy it.”

“My wedding will be bigger.”

“Mayhap,” Jemma said. “But come inside now and out of the cold night.”

Athena followed her inside, but it was only to linger in the shadows, anxious. She knew, at some point, that either Scott was going to come inside or Paris was going to go out to the stable and she wanted to be prepared for what was to come. One thing was for certain – she wasn’t going to let her father try to kill Scott as he’d tried to kill Troy, and she wasn’t going to let Kieran sit on his head with the ghastly Helm of Shame. Just as Scott would always protect her, she would protect him.

Judgment Day was coming.

She only hoped they would all survive it.

*

“Kieran, go intothe hall and get Paris.”

William gave the fateful command, speaking softly but firmly. Kieran, his gaze lingering on Scott, left the stable without another word. When he was gone, William turned to his son.

“We can only hope the alcohol will numb him enough so that he simply accepts what you tell him,” William said to his son. “Let us pray for that because I almost ended my friendship with him today when he tried to kill Troy. I’d hate to have to make that decision twice in one day.”

Scott hung his head. Not because he was ashamed of his predicament with Athena because he wasn’t. It was because he was deeply remorseful for what his father had to deal with. It wasn’t just a situation that involved him and him alone – it was something that involved the whole family.

That was the unfortunate nature of it.

“For your distress, I am sorry,” he said after a moment. “Please believe me, Papa, when I say that I did not intend to disappoint you like this. I fully intend to face whatever punishment Uncle Paris wants to bring down on me, for the situation warrants it. I know it does. But I will not apologize for loving Athena. She is a strong, beautiful woman and she is worthy of being the mother of the heir to the House of de Wolfe.”

“She is indeed worthy, but you should have waited until you were married to bed her.”

“Did you wait until you were married to Mother to bed her?”

William couldn’t lie to his son, but he wasn’t going to answer him, either. “We are not speaking of me,” he said. “We are speaking of you. When I married your mother, I did not have a father to advise me. My father was long dead, but you have me and I will indeed advise you. You’ve gotten yourself into a bind, lad. If we all come out of this unscathed, it will be a miracle.”

Scott knew that truer words had never been spoken. “I cannot undo what has been done,” he said. “There is a child on the way. We have already discussed it and we are going to name our son William, after you. It seems appropriate.”

That took the raging wind right out of William’s sails. A grandson to carry on his name. He was almost swept away with the sweet and happy thoughts of a grandson who looked just like him, but he wondered if Scott had used it as a ploy to soften him. If he had, it was a brilliant move.

In fact, it gave him an idea.

“While I am deeply honored, and you know I am, I would not tell Paris that,” he said. “When the man comes in here and you must tell him the truth, tell him that you intend to name the child after him.”

Scott’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Do it.”

“But –!”

“If you want to throw water on a raging fire, tell him. You can always change your mind later.”

Scott shut his mouth, eyeing his father but understanding why he said what he did. It was a dirty trick, but it would – or should – calm Paris’ anger. At this point, he was willing to do anything to appease the father of the woman he loved.

“Very well,” he sighed heavily. “If you believe it is the right thing to do.”

William lifted his big shoulders. “I do not know if it is the right thing, but it is the wise thing to do,” he said. “Hopefully, Paris will more easily accept the situation. Hopefully, he will be so drunk that none if it will matter but, somehow, I am not holding out the belief that it will. This could go either way for you, Scott – either he will not care because he has already been through this situation once today, or he will explode because it has happened twice.”

Scott was aware of that. He sat down on a stool that the grooms used, pondering his immediate future. The more he thought about it, the more worried he became. “Do you think he’ll do to me what he did to Troy?”

“If he does, you will accept it.”

Scott put his hand on his blond head, hating to lose his hair like his brother had. Yet, if that was all he lost, it would be a small price to pay. Hair would grow back. He might even get a slap or two and he would tolerate it. But the thought of Kieran sitting on his head already turned his stomach.

In silence, Scott and William waited, listening to the sounds of the distant party and the occasional cry of the sentries. The horses in the stable stirred now and again, including a charger who had an inordinate amount of flatulence. Scott sat there, listening to that horse fart, torn between disgust with the animal and the apprehension of what was coming. It was the unknown that worried him.

And then, they began to hear footsteps.

They also heard bickering, clearly Paris speaking to Kieran. Taking a deep breath, Scott stood up so he could face Paris on his feet. He didn’t want to face him seated on the stool where Paris could easily kick him in the face if he was angry enough. He didn’t want to lose teeth. As he watched the stable entry, Kieran appeared practically dragging Paris by his arm.

And Paris did not look pleased.

“Unhand me, you brute,” Paris snapped, yanking his arm from Kieran’s grip and nearly landing on his arse with the momentum of the pull. But he kept his balance as well as the contents of the tankard he carried, though barely. “What is this all about?”

William cast his son a long look before speaking. “Scott wishes to speak with you in private,” he said. “He did not want to compete with all of the guests in the hall, so I asked Kieran to bring you out here.”

Paris was weaving around, perturbed and unsteady. A handsome man with graying blond hair, he was the commander of Northwood Castle’s army, a great castle in the north and ally to William and Castle Questing. He also happened to be William’s oldest and closest friend next to Kieran. The three of them were so close that they even married cousins, officially making them all family. They’d seen life and death and innumerable battles together, but almost nothing as important as the battle that was forming now. Those family ties had already been tested today and they would, once again, be tested this night.

Scott knew it was time to get on with it.

“Uncle Paris,” he said. “I’m not sure this is the right time for such a thing, but I find that I must ask. Now with Troy and Helene married, it has occurred to me that I do not want to wait to start my life with Athena. I… I cannot remember when I haven’t loved her, or that she hasn’t been in my life. I never wish to be without her and I promise that I will make her happy. She will never want for anything and I will be true to her until the day I die. May I have your permission to marry her?”

William and Kieran were watching Paris closely. That’s not the tack or the approach they would have chosen to take when there was something far more important to tell Paris. But very quickly, they realized that it was a brilliant tactical move by Scott by gaining the man’s permission to marry first.

Then, deliver the questionable news.

Paris looked at Scott, processing what the young knight had said. Beneath that drunken façade, his mind was fairly clear when it came to matters of the family, including Scott and Athena. The pair that had both pined for one another and ignored one another, and this had been going on for years. Scott was a fine lad and Paris loved him like a son. In fact, he had a special attachment to him, as William’s first born, and he had been expecting this question for the past two years.

Was it the right time to ask? Probably not, but he had. Attending a wedding had a way of inspiring bravery in those considering it.

But Paris didn’t want Scott to think he was too eager to agree.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “She is quite young.”

“Not too terribly,” Scott said. “Women are married at an age younger than she is now.”

“But she may not want to marry you. Have you asked her?”

Scott blinked in surprise. “Of course I have,” he said. “She wants to marry me very much.”

Paris shrugged, leaning against one of the supporting posts for the roof of the stable. “I am not certain of this,” he said, sounding both casual and inebriated. “Rafe d’Vant has an eye for her, you know. He’s an excellent knight from an excellent Cornwall family.”

Scott knew enough about his Uncle Paris to know the man was trying to goad him. “Rafe has an eye for someone else,” he pointed out. “He has no interest in marrying Athena when he knows she is for me.”

He may have had a better answer than Paris was expecting, but that didn’t deter him. “There are a half-dozen lords in Northumberland who are better prospects than you are,” he said. “Men who have wealth and titles.”

“I’ll have those someday.”

“But you do not have them now,” Paris said. “De Vesci’s heir has looked at my Athena with longing in his eyes. Mayhap I shall ask him if he wishes to pursue her.”

Unfortunately, Scott didn’t have much patience, especially when it came to Athena and his pride. He knew Paris was just being difficult for there was truly no reason for him to deny him permission to marry her. The families had been expecting it for quite some time, so Paris was just being childish, in Scott’s opinion.

That served to fuel his ire.

“Do that and I shall kill him and bring all of Alnwick down around our ears,” he said. “Is that what you want? A war?”

Paris took another swig from his cup. “The war will be with your father, not me,” he said. “My daughter is quite beautiful.”

“I know.”

“Many men look at her with longing in their eyes.”

“How many men have asked for her hand?”

He had Paris on that point because there hadn’t been any. Paris’ eyes narrowed. “That is none of your business,” he said. “The point is that you may not be her only suitor. She is young and I will not rush into anything.”

Scott’s face was beginning to turn red and William had remained silent long enough. He didn’t like seeing Paris harass his son in that fashion because it was bordering on mean-spirited.

“Paris,” he rumbled. “Either give your permission or deny him. Stop torturing him for your own amusement.”

Paris looked at William. “It is not for my own amusement,” he said. “Your son wants to marry my daughter. Did he think it was going to be a simple thing? Did he think I would simply shake his hand and thank him for the offer? She has other choices than your arrogant son, you know.”

William shook his head at the man, exasperated, as Scott’s dander rose. He knew he shouldn’t clap back, but with Paris calling him arrogant, he found that he was deeply insulted.

“She does not have any other choices,” he pointed out hotly. “I am her first and only choice. If you do not want to give me permission, then simply say so, but know that I will not listen to you. I am going to marry her no matter what you say.”

Paris drank the last of his cup and tossed it aside. “Is that so?” he said. “You think no other man will want her, then?”

“No other man will want a woman carrying another man’s child!”

Both William and Kieran looked at Scott with wide eyes, shocked that he’d just blurted out something that should have been gently delivered. But Paris had provoked him; there was no question in their minds that Paris had unreasonably provoked him.

But now, they waited for the explosion.

It wasn’t long in coming.

With a roar, Paris grabbed the nearest weapon, which happened to be a big, iron bar that the smithies used when shoeing the horses. He lifted it like a club and charged after Scott as the man dodged out of his way. Kieran leapt back as Scott raced past him, sticking out a foot and tripping Paris as the man came near. Scott ran through the stable yard as Paris picked himself up, grabbed his iron bar, and took a swing at Kieran. It was a drunken swing, but a swing nonetheless, and Kieran easily ducked it.

“I will kill you!” Paris shouted at Kieran. “I must kill Scott first, but when I do, I’ll come back and kill you!”

Kieran was fighting off a bad case of the giggles. “I will be waiting right here.”

Paris roared again and stumbled after Scott, who had retrieved an enormous pitchfork that the grooms used to dispense the hay. It was heavy, made from iron and wood, and he held it up to deflect Paris’ blow as the man swung at him.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Paris,” Scott said, trying to defend himself. “I did not mean to tell you in that manner, but… well, you were being hateful. It just came out.”

Paris was on fire. “I’ll tell you what else is going to come out,” he bellowed. “Your guts when I’m finished with you! I am going to disembowel you right in front of your father! Guts everywhere like a sea of red!”

He was swinging the iron rod recklessly because he was so drunk that his aim was horrible. Scott was trying to stay out of his range, defending himself more than he was actually fighting back.

“If you kill me, Athena really will have a bastard,” Scott said, dodging a swing that came close to his knees. “Uncle Paris, I love her. I want to marry her. If the child is male, we are going to name him after you. Your grandson will be named Paris. Does that not please you?”

Paris growled. He didn’t stop swinging the rod, as Scott had hoped. “You’ll not sully my name with the de Wolfe stench,” he said. “You cannot name the child Paris de Wolfe. I forbid it!”

Scott was walking in circles around Paris, trying to stay away from the rod. “You are going to have another grandchild with Troy and Helene,” he said. “Both of your daughters have chosen de Wolfe husbands. You love my father and he loves you. Stop saying terrible things about the de Wolfe name.”

“It stands for animals! Foolish, reckless animals!”

“At least these animals have wealth and property, unlike the de Norvilles.”

Paris stopped swinging, his eyes narrowing at Scott. “What did you just say to me, Boy?”

Scott didn’t lower the pitchfork and he didn’t back down. “I said the House of de Wolfe has property and money,” he said. “What do the de Norvilles have except a madman for a father and a life of servitude to Teviot? You’re nothing but a servant and that is all you will ever be. You should be fortunate that I am offering for your daughter at all given the state of your family.”

“Scott,” William hissed, standing several feet away because he’d followed the combatants at a distance. “Apologize immediately.”

Scott glanced at his father. “I will not,” he said defiantly. “He has spent the past several minutes greatly insulting me and you let him. I love Athena and I am trying to do the honorable thing by marrying her, but all Paris wants to do is insult me and the family name. I won’t stand for it any longer.”

“He’s drunk, lad.”

“I don’t care!” Scott said, tossing aside the pitchfork and opening himself up to Paris’ weapon. In fact, he faced Paris and spread his arms out. “You want to kill me? Go ahead. But it doesn’t change facts. Athena is pregnant and I am the father. I am trying to do the right and honorable thing, but you want to kill me for it just like you wanted to kill Troy. You’re a fool, Paris de Norville. An old and stupid fool, so if you think you can find a better husband for Athena, go right ahead. I won’t stop you. But just know I have lost every bit of love and respect I ever had for you, so I hope you can live with that.”

With that, he stormed off, leaving Paris, William and Kieran standing in the small stable yard. William and Kieran watched him go as Paris stood there, looking at the rod in his hand. When Scott stormed out of sight, William and Kieran looked at each other before returning their focus to Paris.

“He did not mean it,” William said. “But you pushed him too far, Paris. You had no reason to behave as you did towards him.”

Paris was still looking at the rod in his hand. “No reason?” he repeated. “The man impregnated my daughter. You’ve had two sons impregnate my daughters, William. What does that say about you as a father?”

William’s instinct was to hold his tongue because with as brittle as they both were, their lifelong friendship really could end that night. For good. But he didn’t like hearing Paris impugning his sons.

It wasn’t as if Paris had lived a straight and pious life himself.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I’d be more concerned with the fact that you have two unwed, pregnant daughters. What does that say about you, as a father, that you would let your daughters be so unrestrained around men?”

Paris looked at him. “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”

William shook his head, exasperated, but he was prevented from responding when Kieran put himself between them.

“Enough,” he rumbled quietly. “If this conversation goes any further, real damage will be done. Paris, you have left many a deflowered maiden in your wake, so stop pointing fingers. You, of all people, have no right to do so. What Scott did was not ideal, but it’s not like you haven’t done the same thing and with women you were not in love with, so your outrage is hollow.”

Paris’ blue eyes glittered. “Are you taking his side, Kieran?”

Kieran cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not taking anyone’s side,” he said. “But I am pointing out that you are acting despicably. You have every right to become angry and to punish Scott, but you do not have the right to insult him and his father. Stop acting so self-righteous. We have been through this with you once today and, quite honestly, I am weary of your behavior.”

“So am I.”

It wasn’t William or even Paris who spoke. The three of them turned towards the stable yard entry to see Athena standing there with a broadsword in her hand. A big, heavy broadsword that she was handling most ably. The men faced her as she stepped into the small yard, her focus on her father.

“Scott is in the hall, Papa,” she said, her jaw ticking faintly. “He will not speak to me or look at me. What did you do?”

Paris didn’t like being cornered and he didn’t like being questioned, especially by his daughter.

“That is no affair of yours,” he said. Eyeing his tall, elegant daughter, the emotion was visible on his face. “Tee… how could you let this happen? Helene, I can understand, because she is weak and pliable. But you… you would make a magnificent battle commander had you been born a man. How could you let this happen?”

Athena could match her father’s strength and then some. “It’s not his fault, you know,” she said, coming closer to him. “I seduced him. You are right when you say that I would have made a magnificent battle commander because I can command men to my will. I commanded Scott to my will and I liked it. Is that clear enough? I carry his child now and I am not sorry. He came to tell you the situation like an honorable man but, clearly, you did not react in kind. What did you do?”

The last four words were spoken deliberately. Paris heard them, but he was still dealing with the fact that his daughter had admitted to seducing a man. Bold, strong, and willful Athena was behaving like her father had in his prime – seducing women, acting on impulse and passion rather than common sense. She was most definitely her father’s daughter.

But his pride wouldn’t let him admit it.

“I called him an animal,” he said. “Because he is. Both Scott and Troy are animals because of what they’ve done to you and your sister. Beastly actions from men with no honor.”

Athena’s eyes narrowed, looking a good deal like her father in that gesture. “Take that back,” she said in a hazardous tone. “Take it back and apologize. You will not insult him so.”

“After what he has done?” Paris said, incredulous. “After what you let him do? Your mother is a fine, noble woman. I thought you would have learned grace and restraint from her.”

Athena cocked an eyebrow. “As you have so often pointed out, I am exactly like you,” she said. “I learned to be passionate and selfish, because that is exactly what you are – selfish. You are selfishly thinking about yourself in this situation and not about me. I love Scott, Papa. Does that even matter to you? I will marry him.”

“It is my decision.”

“It is not.”

Paris waved her off. “I will not have this discussion with you,” he said. “You are a lass that knows your own mind and is not afraid to speak it. But in this case, you are wrong. It’s my decision whether or not you will marry that rutting bull who has soiled my fragile flower.”

It was almost the exact same thing he had said to William about Troy earlier in the day, though Athena couldn’t have known that. She did, however, have the same reply that William had.

“No daughter of Caladora de Norville is a fragile flower,” she said coldly. “And you will not speak that way of Scott.”

“I will do as I please.”

Athena lifted the broadsword with two hands. “Then you have insulted him for the last time,” she said. “I will ask you once more – will you give permission for our marriage?”

Paris happened to look at her, sword raised. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. “And you will kill me if I do not?”

Athena’s response was to wield the sword in a surprisingly skilled move, arcing it over her head and swinging it right at her father. He barely had time to get the iron rod up to deflect her blow.

“Athena!” he said, moving away from her. “What in the hell are you doing? Cease this at once!”

Athena wasn’t listening. She leveled off a series of impressive moves, striking the iron rod her father was holding, defending himself from her onslaught.

“Not until you give permission,” she said, grunting as she swung the sword at his head. “Give it or face my wrath!”

She went after her father with an astonishing amount of skill and strength for a woman who had not been trained as a warrior. She chopped and thrusted, chasing Paris all over the small yard as he used the iron rod to defend himself, all the while begging her to cease. But she wouldn’t. Athena was determined to force her father into giving his consent as William and Kieran watched, open-mouthed.

They’d never seen anything like it.

“What do we do?” Kieran hissed.

William had no idea. He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “I am not sure,” he said. “She’s very good.”

Kieran nodded in shock. “Very good,” he agreed. “If she makes contact, she is going to seriously injure her father, or worse.”

William could see that. “Frankly, I am afraid to try to disarm her,” he said. “I might come away missing a hand.”

They watched as she narrowly missed clipping Paris’ forearm. “They can’t keep this up much longer before someone is hurt,” Kieran muttered. “She said that Scott was in the hall.”

They were both thinking the same thing. “Find him, Kieran,” William said. “Tell him to come running.”

Kieran headed off into the darkness as William monitored the fight, which was becoming more brutal by the moment. Paris, not wanting to fight his own daughter, was simply trying to stay clear of her. He was simply trying to stay in one piece.

But the battle raged on.

At some point, they ended up inside the stable as Paris tried to avoid getting sliced. He stumbled as he tried to flee her slashing, falling to his knees and forced to protect himself by bringing up a stool in order to prevent his daughter from cutting him through the neck. He managed to get to his feet but she continued to chase him, growing progressively weary. She may have been good with a sword, but she didn’t have the stamina that a knight had to throw around a heavy broadsword in the heat of battle.

Athena finally backed Paris into a corner and having nowhere to run, Paris simply stood there with the iron rod raised. There was nowhere for him to go and they both knew it. With the advantage, Athena finally lowered the sword, panting heavily.

“Now,” she said, exhausted. “Are you going to give us permission to wed?”

All of the drink Paris had been filled with had been mostly burned off during his flight for his life from his very own daughter. He was still tipsy, but not nearly as drunk as he had been.

He lowered the rod.

“Does it mean so much to you?” he asked.

Athena rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Of course it does,” she said. “I am willing to cut your head off because you will not give your permission. Why would you ask such a foolish question?”

Paris’ gaze moved over her as she leaned against the side of the stall, wiping the sweat from her brow. He could see William standing behind her – the man had moved close to make sure no one really got hurt. He didn’t care if Paris’ pride took a beating from his aggressive daughter, but he did care if she drew blood.

Slowly, Paris sighed.

“When you were a little girl, you challenged Scott to a fight,” he said softly. “Do you remember?”

Athena, still breathing heavily, nodded. “I do,” she said. “He and Troy and Hector would travel in a gang and fight other squires and pages and steal their money.”

“So you would champion their victims.”

“Exactly,” she said. “He was a bully.”

“So were you.”

Athena eyed her father for a moment before looking away, trying not to grin. “I was taller than most of the boys,” she said. “I was stronger, too. Someone had to stop them.”

“And you decided it would be you.”

She nodded, leaning the sword against the stall wall as she faced him. “I did,” she said. “Somewhere in the process, I realized that I loved Scott. I have always loved him, Papa, and I would be lost without him. Even if I was not carrying his child, I would still want to marry him very badly.”

Paris, by now, was much calmer and more rational. Perhaps just the least bit sorry he’d been such a horse’s arse and had driven his daughter to violence. “I know,” he said quietly. “I have always known.”

“Then why are you resisting?”

Paris took a long, deep breath and slumped against the wall. “I do not know,” he said. “I suppose because you are growing up so fast. Yesterday, you were a young lass who wanted to fight all of the boys and when I woke up this morning, you were a young woman wanting to marry the man you love. You have always wanted to grow up so fast, Tee, and to do everything so quickly. You rush into everything. Mayhap I am simply not ready for you to rush into this.”

Athena could hear the sorrow in his tone and it softened her, just a little. “But you let Helene marry.”

He lifted his shoulders. “I had little choice,” he said. “But neither one of you are of age, Tee. You are young women, that is true, but you’ve not yet seen eighteen years. And you wonder why I do not want you to marry yet?”

Athena might not have been of age yet, but she was close. Not only that, she was quite mature for her age. She always came across as someone much older because of the way she carried herself, and those who did not know the family thought she was older than her sister when, in fact, she was younger. She had a certain quality about her that made her wise beyond her age, something Scott had seen in her for the past couple of years now, ever since she’d become a woman in every sense of the word. The only person who didn’t see her as a grown woman was, in fact, her father.

Sighing faintly, she went to him.

“I know that I rush into everything, Papa,” she said softly. “I have since I was a child. I have always felt the urge to do everything I want to do quickly and freely, to live my life to the fullest every single day. It’s simply the way I am.”

Paris knew why. He’d known why since she had been a young girl. “It’s because of those… dreams.”

Athena nodded reluctantly. It was well known within the family that Athena had prophetic dreams at times. She was always the one to have gut feelings about a situation or tell her mother an unexpected visitor was arriving and, usually, she was right. She was the lass who saw ghosts in the castles of Northwood and Questing, who would hear things that other did not. She was a woman of many fascinating facets and not simply sword fighting.

She seemed to live her life more hungrily than most because of it.

“Aye, the dreams,” she said after a moment. “I’ve had dreams since I was a girl, vivid dreams of life and death and dying. I’ve died a hundred different ways in my dreams and the priests have told me that my dreams are omens while others tell me that God is speaking to me. Whatever the case, those dreams have always made me feel as if I must live every single day with vigor and curiosity and passion because one never knows what tomorrow will bring.”

“And that is why you wish to marry Scott? To become a married woman so soon?”

“I want to marry him because I love him. I will never love another. Please, Papa.”

Paris looked at her. Then, he lifted his hands, cupping her face. “Hector, Apollo, and Helene were born,” he said, looking into her eyes. “And then, there was you. There was always something special about you. Mayhap it was because you looked so much like your mother. When I look at you now, I see her so very clearly. Mayhap there is a part of me that always wants to keep you by my side because of it. Is that so wrong?”

Athena smiled at him. “Nay,” she said. “It is not wrong. I will never truly leave you, Papa. Don’t you know that? I will always be your Tee, in this life or in the next. I will always be your angel.”

“Swear it?”

“I do.”

He kissed her forehead and dropped his hands. Then, he stood back, looking at her torso, noticing the flowing dress, concealing her condition. He could hardly bring himself to speak the words, but there was no use avoiding the subject.

“When are we to expect this de Wolfe offspring?” he asked.

Athena instinctively put her hands to her belly and Paris could see, in that gesture, just how much she’d been hiding from the family. He could clearly see her rounded tummy.

“Soon,” she said.

“How soon?”

“You had better let Scott and I marry in the next few weeks or this child really will be born a bastard.”

“Does your mother know?”

Athena shook her head. “I’ve not told her, but I think she suspects. Mama is not stupid.”

Scott chose that moment to make an appearance. Having run all the way from the hall with Kieran on his tail, he was breathing heavily by the time he came to a stop and looked between Paris and Athena in a panic. Kieran had only told him that there was trouble in the stables and when he saw the broadsword leaning against the wall of the stall, his eyes widened.

“What is that doing here?” he said. Then he held out a hand to Athena. “Tee, come with me, love. Get behind me. I will protect you.”

He collected the sword, convinced that Paris was about to take the weapon to his daughter, but Paris held up a hand to calm him.

“Be at ease,” he said. “I was not the one who wielded the weapon.”

Scott looked at them both in confusion. “You weren’t? Then –?”

“It was your future wife as she demanded I give you my permission to wed,” Paris said, eyeing his daughter. “She was going to kill me if I didn’t.”

Scott stared at him for a moment as his words sank in. “My future wife?” he repeated. “Then I have your permission?”

Paris sighed heavily. “If I do not give it, my daughter is prepared to fight me to the death, so you may have it.”

Scott looked at Athena, who smiled brightly at him. Then, she flew at him, throwing herself into his arms as they giggled uncontrollably together. It was the joy of youth and unrestrained love. Paris didn’t know if he felt better or worse as he watched.

“You were correct, Scott,” he said. “I was a fool. And my daughter is also correct – I am selfish. I suppose… I suppose I simply wasn’t prepared to face this moment and it made me angry. I have lost two daughters in one night and that is a great deal for any man to take. Helene and Athena have always been my special little girls and it has always been the two of them, my little blossoms, and now… now, they are becoming wives and mothers and it is difficult for me to swallow. For what I said… mayhap you will forgive me in time. I did not mean it.”

Scott had Athena wrapped up in his arms, just where he wanted her, so he could be a little forgiving. “There is nothing to forgive, Uncle Paris,” he said. “I was angry. You were angry. I should not have said such things to you and I am sorry, too.”

“I should not have called you an animal.”

“My father says that it takes one to know one.”

Paris’ eyebrows flew up in outrage, looking over at William and Kieran, who were grinning broadly. When he saw the grins, he couldn’t become too angry, mostly because they were right. That was the trouble with being close to men who had known him in his youth.

They knew everything.

He turned to Scott.

“Then we are a family of animals,” he said. “But you are a fine animal. I knew you when you were born and I have watched you grow up. I am entrusting you with my daughter, mayhap the most important creature in your entire life. May she always be that to you.”

Scott’s features were full of joy. “For always, I swear it,” he said. “Thank you, Uncle Paris. I will not disappoint you.”

“I know,” he said, watching the pair as they ran off gleefully. He shouted after them. “But do not announce it! I will do that when I return to the hall!”

William watched the pair flee the stable, off into the night. “They will not wait,” he said. “They are running to the hall to tell everyone.”

Paris grunted. “I know,” he said, sighing. He grew serious. “William, I still do not want them naming their son after me, but not because I do not want the de Wolfe name. It is because that privilege is for Hector, my firstborn.”

William shrugged. “I would not worry over it,” he said. “They only said they were going to name the child after you to gain your favor.”

“Is that so?”

“It is. They are, in truth, going to name it after me, as it should be.”

Paris rolled his eyes. “God,” he muttered. “Another William de Wolfe. Can we stand such a thing?”

William grinned. “He will be the greatest knight England has ever seen,” he assured him. “He not only has de Wolfe blood, but de Norville blood. How can he not be the greatest knight?”

Paris hadn’t thought of it from that perspective. “You are correct,” he said. “I’d not thought of it that way. A knight with those bloodlines will be invincible.”

“Indeed,” William said, slapping him on the shoulder. “Come on – let us head to the hall so that you may confirm their announcement.”

Paris snorted. “Or deny it,” he teased. But he quickly sobered. “I am sorry about today, William. I behaved poorly with Troy and I did it again with Scott. How do you tolerate me?”

William glanced at Kieran, who simply shook his head. “I have no choice,” he said. “We are family.”

“Speaking of family,” Kieran said, eyeing Paris. “Apollo has been showing far too much interest in my daughter, Moira. Tell him to stay away from her or he’ll not like my reaction.”

Paris pointed to Kieran as he spoke to William. “Do you hear this?” he demanded. “This is exactly how I feel with the de Wolfe cubs sniffing around my daughters.”

William didn’t support him. In fact, he frowned. “And Hector has set his sights on Evelyn,” he said, referring to Paris’ son and William’s daughter, who was barely into womanhood. “If Hector gets too close, I’ll cut off something vital. You may want to tell him.”

Paris rolled his eyes. “I cannot believe my ears,” he said. “Have I not been stressing this very point? Men are animals!”

William grunted. “Hector had better not be an animal if knows what’s good for him.”

“Nor Apollo,” Kieran pointed out. “If he so much as tries to steal a kiss, I’ll take it out on his father.”

Paris couldn’t even rise to the threat. All he could see where a pair of hypocrites. He was about to tell them so, but he just started laughing. They’d accused him of being foolish but, as it turned out, they were just as foolish.

Possibly worse.

The three of them argued and bickered all the way back to the great hall where Paris announced another de Wolfe wedding in the near future. Two months after that glorious and pivotal night, a fat and healthy son was born to Scott and Athena.

Little William de Wolfe had the weight of an entire empire already riding on his tiny shoulders as his grandfathers celebrated the arrival of an heir. Little did they know how close he would come to increasing the de Wolfe empire…

Or breaking it.

Upon Will de Wolfe’s shoulders would come the biggest burden of all.